


So now he just sits in silence

by ihartdiamonds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: One-Shot, Other, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihartdiamonds/pseuds/ihartdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Song fic for Car radio by Twenty One Pilots. Set during Season 5. Spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	So now he just sits in silence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own. Can we all just appreciate how amazing a character Dean is? He needs a hug. Preferably from Cas, but I think anyone will do. Anyway, this happened at around midnight, an I wrote this while listening to both Car radio and This is Gospel by Panic at the Disco, which explains why this fic is so cheerful! Enjoy.

He drove along a lonely road. It was dark. Rain slashed at his windscreen. His windscreen wipers fought against it in a losing battle. Of course it was raining. He was Dean Winchester. For Gods sake.  
Sam was back at the hotel with Cas. He had left them both. Taken the implala and ran. He needed to escape. He needed to be away. By himself.  
It was supposed to be a distraction from the pain and fear. But somebody had stolen his car radio. No vintage rock music to distract him. His car was silent as death. That thought made him laugh. He didn't know why. His sanity was hanging from a thin thread.  
There was just too much pressure on him. Too much for any normal person to take.  
Lucifer. The apocalypse. Being Michael's vessel.  
So many times he had been told that he was empty inside. That he didn't care. He wasn't fighting for anything. He felt nothing. That he depended on his brother too much.  
They were all right. He didn't care about anything except Sam.  
Too many emotions. He needed sound. Some kind of distraction. He needed to pull over and stretch his legs.  
He pulled the impala onto the shoulder of the road. But he never opened the door. Never got out. Without the small distraction of driving he was completely exposed.  
He found himself slumped against the steering wheel. He was crying. He didn't want to. But he couldn't stop it. The tears had been waiting for too long. They wouldn't stop for anything.  
He was mumbling apologies to the souls he had torn apart in Hell. He had broken down there. Cas hadn't pulled him out in time.  
Heaven and Hell. He was caught between them. That was what kept him going. He had to sort all this apocalypse shit out. He couldn't just give up like he wanted to. He needed to have somewhere to rest in peace once he was over.  
And somewhere for Sam to go too.  
The tears were still running, but now they had thinned enough that he could see. He pulled back out onto the road, and turned the car in the direction of the hotel where Sam and Cas were.  
Some son of a bitch had stolen his car radio. So now he just sat in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and sorry. It's ok, I cried too.


End file.
